


Pay No Worship to the Garish Sun

by Clxarke



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: AKA he's doing his best, Day At The Beach, Established Relationship, He is Too Russian For This Heat, Kent is learning it!, Kent loves attention, M/M, Tater hates the beach, They're fuckin nerds, google translate russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7402600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clxarke/pseuds/Clxarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kent drags a reluctant Tater to the beach. That should go well. Probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pay No Worship to the Garish Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Check, Please! Belongs to the lovely Ngozi aka Literal Goddess
> 
> Warnings: Some explicit language, Google Translate Russian, mild angst
> 
> Check, Please! is quickly consuming my life and I love it so much! This fic is more tame than the previous one, but I hope its enjoyable nonetheless! Its mainly fluff with some angst here and there. 
> 
> ** Dedicated to Bell and Charlie (garbage #1 and garbage #2) who motivate me to actually write things 
> 
> Enjoy!

Tater was not built for New England summers. As a purebred Russian through and through, he was accustomed to frigid winters and brisk summers. He never owned a tank top until his teammates brought him on a much-needed shopping trip. His idea of a “hot day” was sixty-five degrees and cloudy. 

So naturally it was Kent’s first instinct to haul the massive, warm-blooded hockey star to the beach.

It was the first 90-degree day of the summer and Kent parson was keen on getting a tan. It was his favorite time of year— one where he could get away with strutting shirtless in public, whilst sucking obscenely on a Popsicle, and no one could stop him. That, truly, was his idea of power. It only made sense to drag his smoking hot, incredibly ripped, boyfriend along with him.

If there was one thing Kent liked better than attention, it was envy.

Unfortunately for Tater, that meant sitting out in the hot sun for many hours— A.K.A. the very last thing on the planet that he would ever do on purpose. Yet there he was, all to please his boyfriend.

He should get an award for this.

The duo was sprawled out on their respective beach towels. Tater’s was a royal blue while Kent’s was a muted pink. Kent was propped up against his bag, white sunglasses gracing his face and earbuds blasting muffled alternative pop. Tater had set up the umbrella strategically to conceal his entire body in a cloak of shade. It didn’t do much to block out the blistering heat, but he reckoned it was at least ten degrees cooler on his side. He was attempting to entertain himself with a novel he’d found on Kent’s shelf (“Oh, I’ve never read any of those.”  “Why have shelf or book at all?” “The aesthetic.”) but was confused by some of the terms and nearly gave up twice.

There were more than a few loud children splashing nearby, which made it even harder to focus. They’d been there for an hour at most, yet Tater felt like he couldn’t take it anymore. He was sweating up a storm, frustrated by this damn novel, and longing for their central air conditioning.

Fed up, Tater leaned over and nudged Kent’s shoulder. The blond opened his eyes and plucked out an ear-bud.

“What now?” He asked, irritation slipping into his voice.

Tater was not in the mood for this bitchy attitude. 

“Kent.” He made sure his voice carried a serious note. Kent didn’t miss it, pulling out his iPod to pause the music. It wasn’t often that Tater used anything but Kent’s nickname,  _ Kenny _ . “I am not having good time.”

Normally Kent would just brush it off and tell him to suck it up for a few more hours, but this was Tater. Alexei  _ infinite-patience _ Mashkov was giving a negative review. This was serious.

Kent sighed and sat up, tucking his iPod away.

“Let’s get in the water.” He proposed, getting to his feet. “I can tan later. The water is probably sub zero, which is more your speed.”

Tater groaned, sure that he would much prefer going home. Regardless, he followed Kent across the sand. Emerging from his shield of darkness proved to have instant effects. The sand under his feet was sweltering. He could practically feel heat blisters forming.

Kent stepped in first, toeing his way through the waves.

“Holy  _ fuck _ , it’s cold.” He reported when the water was up to his thighs. “C’mon Alexei. It’s safe, I promise. Colder than Mrs. Claus’s tits in the North fucking Pole, but safe.”

Eyeing Kent through a squint and grimace, Tater stepped into the water.

Obviously Kent was exaggerating. The water was cool and clear. It was brisk compared to the heat, but instantly refreshing. Tater didn’t hesitate before treading forward, the water engulfing him gradually as he plunged.

_ This _ was nice. The water felt fantastic against his skin. He passed an amused and shivering Kent, going deeper. Once it was past his hips, he decided to drop, submerging his entire body. On the way down, he heard Kent exclaim something, but didn’t catch it. Once his head went under he couldn’t hear anything except the muffled churning of the current. He was heavy enough that it couldn’t successfully yank him anywhere. There was thick seaweed by his left foot, but it didn’t bother him. His eyes were closed. He could feel the rays of light piercing the water and caressing his face. It was peaceful and Tater was content.

When he eventually broke the surface with a mighty gulp of air, he flicked his hair back, so it wouldn’t cling to his forehead.

Then two wet hands grabbed his face.

It was Kent, eyes wild and alarmed, his face was the very picture of panic. He was breathing heavily and angrily, still shivering slightly. His hair and body were soaked and dripping.

“Kenny?” Tater inquired. “ что не так ?”

Kent’s mouth flew open, yet he seemed to have difficulty picking his words.

“You  _ scared _ me.” Kent winced like he didn’t mean to actually voice that thought. “You were… You were under for a lot longer than I thought was…  _ possible _ . I tried to swim over, but the current was…” The words stopped as Kent swallowed down a lump in his throat. He withdrew his hands from Tater’s face quickly. He was closing himself off, trying fruitlessly to swipe the emotion from his own face. “Don’t fucking do that again.”

_ Kent was worried about him. _

_ Kent thought he was in danger and intended to save him. _

Tater’s heart could have melted, and not because of the overwhelming summer heat.

  “ я в порядке .” Tater promised, reaching out and cupping Kent’s jaw. There was still a flame of anger and fear in Kent’s eyes, but it was mild, nearly diminished. Tater noticed how Kent didn’t swat at his hand or move away from his touch.  It stirred something sweet in his chest.

 “ я этого не знал .” Kent replied, stone faced and accented enough to be impressive for a beginner. “ Вы меня испугали .”

Tater lifted Kent’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckle. It tasted like saltwater.

“I am sorry, Kenny.”

It took a little while of comforting and coaxing to get Kent’s defences down again, but once Tater had reassured him enough, there was a long splash battle and ample apology kisses. The hours slipped away.

 Stepping back onto the warm sand was easier now that the sun had gone down. Kent was pissed about not getting full use of his tanning hours, but the reflection of the water had at least given his face and torso a little color. Tater was still pale as ever (thanks to the generous amounts of gooey, water-resistant sunblock he demanded be applied to his skin before they arrived). They each drained five bottles of water on the way home, nearly dizzy with dehydration.

Getting Kent to put a shirt on was a futile task, even as the door of their apartment fell shut and the AC was on full blast. Kent, shirtless and indignant, sat on the kitchen island, watching as Tater prepared sandwiches for the two of them. As he playfully mocked Tater’s sandwich making skills, he found that he could barely keep his eyes open. After eating lunch, he nearly dozed off. The full day spent under the hammering sun was finally taking its toll, draining the last of his energy.

Tater made a huffy, overdramatic fuss about having to carry Kent over to the couch— but when Kent pressed lazy kisses against his throat and fell asleep in the crook of his neck, he supposed it wasn’t so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> — What is wrong?
> 
>  
> 
> — I’m fine.
> 
>  
> 
> — I did not know that. 
> 
>  
> 
> — you frightened me. 
> 
>  
> 
> ~ If the Russian is incorrect I URGE you to correct me! ~
> 
>  
> 
> I hope this fic tickled your fancy! (whatever the hell that means) 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr: @ crosbees


End file.
